The Greatest Speaker is Silence
by Morganel
Summary: It marks the beginning of the fulfilment of two promises made by two people to the same person. Silence is the greatest of speakers. It portrays things that words have not the ability to portray. A silent hug says more than anything.


His face has hardened. It is expected. A soldier's face is always hardened. By the war. The blood. The gunfire and explosions. The loss; the death. He's seen his share, and he'll undoubtedly witness more. His hair is still salt and peppery, although it falls better into the category of salty. He looks good. As good as can be expected, given the circumstances. His blue eyes are staring into the distance and his expression is nothing short of contemplative. His face has hardened, and yet, there he is. Alive; against all the odds. He beat the odds. They both did. He hasn't seen her yet, and she hasn't seen him. She's distracted by her small welcome back crew. She hasn't dressed like he would expect. He isn't expecting her, neither is she expecting him. Her hair is down. She's sporting an incredibly warm and comfortable hoodie, as well as straight leg jeans. The only identifying aspect of her attire would be her combat boots. The things are worn and had seen better days; days when they had been black instead of red-ish grey. She can't bring herself to part with them. She feels this way about very few things. The boots, a ratty toy leopard no one but herself knows about, and Ayani's ring. She doesn't think Nathaniel knows she has it. She doesn't know how to tell him she has it. She doesn't know if she will tell him, whenever they happen to see each other again. It is all too possible that the ring could have been blown off, or stolen when...when Ayani had been killed. It's on her finger; third finger on her right hand. It too, is old, but in the same way time makes wine all the more prized, time has only made the ring more beautiful. It wasn't Ayani's wedding ring. It was just something Ayani had gotten as a gift one Christmas from someone special to both women. That night is still so fresh. It had been dark, smoke and flames illuminating the wreckage of a once beautiful and safe neighbourhood. She had almost missed the older woman running from her home while she'd been running over to help another solider. It was Ayani's scream that had stopped her...

"_Alicia!" It broke her sprint, and made her turn toward the shriek of her name. Time slowed down just as it had so many times before. Before an explosion. Before a series of horrible events were burned into her skull. This was no different. _

_It came from the house beside the Taylors'. She watches boots sliding on the loose dirt as she changes direction, as Ayani is blown forward by the explosion, propelling her off the ground and toward her. She's thrown back from the blast and lands with a painful crack on her side. As soon as she regains her focus she's up, gritting her teeth against the pain from her undoubtedly broken ribs. She falls to her knees with a skid in front of Ayani. The older woman's beautiful fair skin and light brown hair is covered with dirt and rocks. Her hand is hanging grotesquely from her wrist. She can't fix it. She pulls out her knife and cuts off her CO's wife's hand in one clean movement before the woman even rouses. Impossibly the rings on the now amputated hand are perfectly fine. She looks over Ayani's body, cataloguing her injuries. A horrible sinking feeling fills her when her eyes fall on the jagged piece of shrapnel embedded in Ayani's stomach area._

"_Alicia?" The woman's voice surprises her with its strength. Alicia looks up to lock eyes with Ayani Taylor's intense gaze._

"_Ani, this does-"_

"_It's okay. I expected I'd come to my end when I saw the look on your face." Alicia tries to fight her tears when Ayani laughs._

"_There isn't anything you can do." She grimaces, and Alicia's eyes snap to Ayani's stomach. Blood is seeping out at an unforgiving rate. She turns her head and frowns, Alicia follows her line of sight and she makes a face when she sees what her dying friend is looking at. Her hand._

"_Take my ring." It's nothing but an order and Alicia can't deny her. She slips the diamond studded claddagh ring off the hand and quickly tucks it into the pocket of her armour. Ayani grasps Alicia's hand with her good one and squeezes._

"_You take care of him!" She doesn't have to say a name for Alicia to know who she's talking about. The only _he_ who matters so much to the both of them. Nathaniel Taylor. Alicia nods._

"_I promise." She crouches over Ayani when another blast sends dirt and rocks showering down over them. _

"_I don't know where Lucas is. He was supposed to come get me to evacuate-" Both women start coughing when a billow of smoke showers ash over them._

"_I'll find him." The promise is in her voice is thick and Ayani nods._

"_Thank you." The words are mouthed on the woman's palling lips and Alicia stands, slipping her hand out of the dying woman's and retreating from her bleeding body. Ayani's eyes don't leave her as she sprints into the destruction. Civilians litter the once residential block. Some stagger around in a state of shock and others lie on the ground dead or dying. Soldiers high on adrenaline rush to help those that they can. She scans the rows of burning houses, praying, to whichever god will listen that she can find the young man. _

"_Lucas!" She hollers, when she sees him disappear behind a house, she starts forward but her chest erupts when seven unseen projectiles strike her._

"_No!" She doesn't know how she managed it, but the shriek leaves her as tears streak down her cheeks. Watching Alicia Washington fall to the ashen ground hurts her more than the metal protruding from her abdomen. It's at that same moment that she feels the familiar hands of her husband on her shoulder. She looks up at him with fear in her eyes. The pain in his burns a hole through her heart._

"_I'm so sorry, Ayani." He says, eyes swimming with tears. _

"_I am too. Just promise me something!" She gasps. He nods._

"_Anything." Tears stream down his face as he says it._

"_I love you, Nathaniel. But you can't save me. So save Alicia and keep her safe!" He looks up to where he sees Wash lying on the ground. He glances back down at his wife and presses a kiss to her mouth. _

_Ayani Taylor dies with the lips of the man she loves enclosed over hers._

_He breaks away from her and runs over to Wash. Her face is contorted in an almost humorous expression of dumbfoundedness. Her arms jerk at her sides as if she doesn't know what to do with them. He kneels down next to her and pulls her chest armour away. Whatever shot her; yes _what_ not _who_ because no one could shoot seven bullets into a person in the spaces between the metal and leather armour with such accuracy. She looks at him as if she's only half aware that he's there. She's trying to talk but the words come out as little squeaks. He cuts open her layers of clothing with his knife and the extent of her injuries is revealed. Her torso is riddled with the seven bullets, each wound contributing to the red coating of blood that had soaked through three layers of her clothing. He yanks at the zipper of his field aid kit and opens the container of cell regeneration capsules. He pinches each dropping them into the hideous wounds and watches as the bleeding slows. _

"_Lucas!" Wash manages to choke out, her chest rising and falling in spasms._

"_He left in a vehicle!" She chokes out, her eyes rolling and suddenly shutting. Her body relaxes. Without a second thought he's counting compressions as he presses down on her chest rhythmically, He doesn't miss a beat in breathing for her and starts the compressions again._

"_Come on Wash!" He shouts at her as he moves. Fighting the new tears that have sprung into his eyes._

"_You're not dying on me tonight!" He doesn't stop, he doesn't pause, he doesn't think. _Save Alicia_. He's keeping that promise, for Ayani, for Alicia, for himself. He wouldn't lose two people in one night. If he did he'd lose himself. He doesn't stop even as the planes drop water over the burning area. He feels the water soaking him. It washes some of the blood from her torso. He doesn't stop. Not when the medics jump off the helicopter before it's landed, and not even when another explosion drowns out the beating blades. He shields her. He keeps pumping. His shoulder aches and suddenly he's being pulled away from her. He sees the hologram of her vitals; he doesn't feel the piece of shrapnel in his shoulder. He sees her faint heart beat._

"_Save her!" He shouts, chants it. It's uncharacteristically desperate. He doesn't breathe when she codes and while they shock her heart. Once, twice, three times. Four. Her heart beat returns and she's put onto a stretcher. He feels a prick in his neck, and suddenly the world feels just peachy. Her heartbeat on a monitor is the last thing he sees before everything goes white._

The war is over.

It's been months. Zero contact with the outside, a kind of Identity Protection Program... Her rehabilitation is complete. She can't go back on active duty for three more months but she's been free from the center she's been living in. A few of her friends. Hardened, soldiers. The ones that survived and beat the odds with her had surprised her and were bringing her home, among other things. Her torso still aches when she walks, though she refuses any and all kinds of pain medication. Too many past horrors she doesn't wish to relive. She walks slowly, her welcome home committee doesn't mind. Walking is sort of new in a way. She'd been subjected to a wheel chair; she doesn't care to recall the reason. Only prides herself on the fact that it helped with re-regaining her arms muscles. They stop at a set of benches, but none of them sit. Two of her fellow female soldiers grin at her. Smiles have come so much more easily since the war ended. The two exchange looks; Alicia is none the wiser. The remaining soldier, Benedict suggests the three go get them something to eat before the next transport arrives. They don't get the chance to insists because she gasps, almost letting out a wail, and she clamps her hand over her mouth.

"Oh my God." She exclaims, tears welling in her eyes.

Everyone but him ceases to exist. He turns hearing her voice and his eyes go wide. She sees him mouth the same thing she did, and she takes a step forward, a smile gracing her face. He crosses the space between them and envelopes her in a hug, taking her off the floor and spinning her just the slightest bit. Laughter escapes her, and she hugs him back, thoroughly fine with the subtle ache of her body as she does so. He arms wrap around his neck and his around her waist. She closes her eyes and just takes in the essence of what is and can only be Commander Nathaniel Taylor. A single sob shakes her and tears of relief slide down her cheeks. He takes her in too. Forgetting how much he missed his lieutenant and her earthy cinnamon smell. A huge weight leaves his shoulders. Seeing her, living, breathing form. Holding her. He hadn't realized how much he'd needed the reassurance.

Silence is the greatest of speakers. It portrays things that words have not the ability to portray. A silent hug says more than anything. This silent hug is full of promise. She doesn't know how she'll do it, but she'll take care of him. He doesn't have a plan but he knows he'll keep her safe. It marks the beginning of the fulfilment of two promises made by two people to the same person. It marks the beginning of a future. It _is_ the formation of an already unbreakable friendship; held together by the sutures of war. It will lead to the formation of another kind of promise.

Neither are they type of people to go back on their promises.


End file.
